


Not Entirely Human

by Tealous



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: AU, F/F, Pets, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tealous/pseuds/Tealous
Summary: Miss Weaver’s gaze returned to Catra, eyes narrowing as she looked her over. This time Catra did shrink down a little, hands balling into little fists and eyes dropping to the ground. They were talking about her as if she weren’t even here. As if she didn’t exist or understand. But... that’s how it was with Humans. Anything that wasn’t quite what they were was deemed lower than them. Easily stepped on and regarded as nothing more than animals. If you weren’t completely human, you were wild. Savage. Stolen from streets and homes and sold as pets. It didn’t matter if you had the same intelligence as they did. It didn’t matter if you grew up talking and walking the same as they did. You were an animal in their eyes, so you’d be treated as such.





	Not Entirely Human

Catra doesn’t remember much of what came before Adora.

Of course, there were snippets of memories tacked into her brain. Shreds of information balled up and tossed into the wastebin of her mind, only for the scraps to be dug through and smoothed out for a later use. Things like scrounging through trash cans at night, stomach complaining loudly once no food was found. Scampering between and hiding behind inanimate objects, so as to stay out of sight. Out of mind. It was better if others didn’t see her, faces twisting into disgust at how unkempt she was. Hair matted, face dirty, clothes torn, skin scraped and bruised.

It was better she kept out of their way, lest she get trampled underfoot.

Despite the holes in her memory, she could recall the first time she’d seen Adora. It wasn’t the first time they’d met, for that exchange would come later. Adora had been so small. Not as small as Catra, but she’d only been a couple inches taller at that age. Blue eyes had been filled with so much wonder, staring all around her as if she’d never seen this part of the city. She probably hadn’t. They couldn’t seem to stick to one place.. until they landed on Catra...

… Who’d taken to raiding the dumpster behind the pastry shop, stealing week old bread and sweets that’d been left out for the rats to find. Luckily, she found them first. Scrambling out of the dumpster, she flopped against the opposite wall and scarfed down one of the stale cakes. There was an awful aftertaste to get past, but she’d have to stomach it without water for now. She’d just started on another of the stolen treats, but she gave pause. Her skin prickled with the weight of a gaze, and mismatched eyes flickered up. Staring right into blue ones.

And there Adora stood. Staring right at Catra with that curious gaze, her small hand tucked into a much taller woman’s. Neither of them made to move closer to the other, and Catra slowly took a bite of her next pastry. Adora then tugged at the woman’s arm, demanding attention for the briefest second, looking up and then back down towards Catra. Pointing.

Catra’s ears had flattened as the woman looked up, gaze honing in on her. Sharp. Unapproving. Judgemental. She’d fled, leaving behind uneaten pastries and the two who’d seen her.

The first time Catra officially met Adora took place only two days after that brief encounter. She’d managed to find something decent to eat that night, and the rarity of a full stomach left her drowsy and sluggish. So, she’d returned to the little sleep area she’d made for herself. In all honesty it was only a couple of blankets thrown under some plywood, but it was better than sleeping on nothing at all. The nights here could be chilly, so she was grateful for the little bit she had.

However, She barely managed to get herself comfortable when a pair of hands latched down onto her legs, dragging her from her pile with a jerk. She gave a short sound of surprise and panic, kicking at the would-be kidnapper with a newfound energy. She quickly found that her legs couldn’t do much in this situation, so she hissed and swiped at his face instead. That didn’t do much for her either, for another pair of hands were instantly grabbing at her wrists and holding them down. Terror bagan to grip her with its icy claws, and tales of similar situations raced through her mind. People grabbed and gutted in the middle of the woods. Children missing and found dead or beaten near death. Stray pets stolen off the street, found butchard in some abandoned house over candles and silver knives. She didn’t want to joins the ranks of those tales with her own. Yet, She could do no more than struggle in her captors’ grasps, growling and spitting out insults… Of course, insults had quickly turned to screaming and pleas for help, each one punching holes into her pride. But... not a single scream was answered… and soon screaming only turned into a rag being shoved in her mouth.

She hadn’t been very strong at that age. Agile and quick, yes. But… it had been two grown men against a small child. There wasn’t much she could do besides writhe and lash out when possible.

“Jesus, the little rat’s got spirit. Are you sure this was the one? It would’ve taken my eye out if you hadn’t caught its claws like that”

“I don’t know, but the description Miss Weaver gave looks pretty close. Grab the flashlight. Check its eyes.”

Catra couldn’t remember their faces. She wasn’t even sure she saw them clearly that night. However, she did remember the slight click and a blinding light glaring down onto her face. She’d winced and turned her head away, but a pair of hands had caught her face and forced it back to the light.

“... That’s the one, all right. It has to be. Same markings. Same eyes. Let’s load her on up.”

Not for the first time in her life, Catra found a bubbling sense of rage in the pit of her stomach. Tears crawling at her eyes as the man clicked the light off and let go of her face. Hatred rose in her throat like bile, stinging her insides and leaving a taste worse than any rat she’d ever had in her mouth. Tail thrashing and a growl bubbling in her chest, her claws flexed at her fingertips. Itching to drag across each man’s face like fingers through water.

She didn’t get to reenact that daydream.

Instead, she got tossed into a cage and hauled off to god knows where in their vehicle. She never stopped fighting, though. She kicked and scratched and punched at the sides of her new prison, demanding loudly and frequently to be let out and left alone. The men didn’t listen; they just kept driving and turning the music louder. It was infuriating. They were ignoring her. Disregarding her like a bird with a towel over its cage. Well, just like that bird, she was going to scream and rattle her cage until noticed. Eventually, the car rolled to a stop, and they got out. However, the next part had been worse that everything that had come before.

They gave her a bath.

Now, the process had been a little rushed due to her obvious disinterest in both the water and being focefully scrubbed down by a pair of strangers. By the end of ten minutes, she was soaked, and suds clogged one of her ears. But… the men looked worse for wear. Both had scratches decorating the skin all down their arms, and Catra had even managed to claw one right across the face. In his panic she’d escaped his grasp. But, she was cornered again, teeth bared and claws ready to strike once more. There was a wary fear and fury to their expressions, each trying to calculate just how much she was worth to them to keep this up. It must have been a lot, because they each suffered quite a few more scratch and bite marks before they managed to grab her again.

The next part had taken longer than anything else, for they’d taken the time to groom the matted mane she called hair. She’d growled and hissed continuously throughout the process, the sensation of a brush being dragged through her tangled locks a foreign and beyond uncomfortable experience. It had hurt, for she’d nothing but knots and clumps back there. Whatever couldn’t be brushed out was cut, and the sound of scissors against her hair left a growing sense of uneasiness in her already churning stomach.

She didn’t know what they wanted with her. She didn’t know why they were cleaning her up or dragging her off the streets like some stray pet. Granted, she was a stray, but she was no one’s pet.

...

Finally, they’d managed to finish, and the last step in their little task was to clothe her in something new. No holes near the pants knees or in the shirt. No frayed edges or dirtied cloth. It had been soft, and it had smelled freshly laundered. She wanted to hate that part, and so she did. She hated the fresh clothing out of the pure spite that they’d put her into it.

And then they forced a collar onto her.

Everything clicked in that moment, and every ounce of dread and terror morphed into even more rage, hot in her stomach like the sun. Even more hatred, that boiled at her insides and rolled off her like the heat off of sand. They were tidying her up and grooming her down to sell her as a pet. Making a stray off the street look nice and well taken care of so they could make a pretty penny. So, she ripped at the knees of her trousers and the collar of her shirt in a fierce determination to destroy something of that image. She would not be passed as some gentle pet to be stroked and tamed. She would not be someone’s lowly housecat or plaything. She was dangerous, rebellious, and fierce.

They threatened to declaw her if she ruined anything else, so she stopped.

Tears in her eyes and hands shaking at her side, she stopped as they shoved her back into the cage inside the vehicle. It was a quiet ride to their next destination, and Catra spent the majority of it watching as she flexed her claws. Stretching them as far out as they would go… and then sheathing them. Rinse. Repeat. She couldn’t lose them. They helped her out of more situations than she could count, and even though she wanted to rip these men’s throats out with them… she knew she wasn’t big enough to do anything more than squirm and scratch at their arms. She wouldn’t let them take away her claws. So, she’d bide her time until she could escape.

She wasn’t becoming someone’s pet.

Over an hour later, they were dragging her out of the cage and marching her up to some grand door that was a part of a house even grander. She’d never seen a home this big... She hadn’t even known they’d existed in this size or with this many windows. But… the overall show of wealth didn’t matter. More windows meant more escape routes. More space meant more room to run away. She wouldn’t let them chain her down and condition her like a show dog. She was going to run the first chance she got.

The door opened a few minutes after the men knocked, and Catra looked up towards the woman who answered, destain burning in her gaze. Green eyes stared right back, sharp and disapproving. As if this woman had set her expectation bar low enough for anyone to reach, and Catra had failed to surpass it before she’d even had the chance to try. She’d seen this woman before. It was the same one from two days ago. They held each other’s attention for only a moment, for Catra was easily disregarded by the woman, gaze shifting up to the men.

“..... Its hair still looks matted, and its clothes are torn. You did not follow my orders.” The woman’s voice made her skin crawl and her hair prickle with unease, but Catra ignored the urge to shrink back into herself. The men seemed to feel the same, but they didn’t try to hide their uncomfort as they shrunk back from the scrutiny.

“We did just as you asked, Miss Weaver. The hair was combed, it’s just thick. And, we gave it new clothes. It ripped the outfit itself.”

Miss Weaver’s gaze returned to Catra, eyes narrowing as she looked her over. This time Catra did shrink down a little, hands balling into little fists and eyes dropping to the ground. They were talking about her as if she weren’t even here. As if she didn’t exist or understand. But... that’s how it was with Humans. Anything that wasn’t quite what they were was deemed lower than them. Easily stepped on and regarded as nothing more than animals. If you weren’t completely human, you were wild. Savage. Stolen from streets and homes and sold as pets. It didn’t matter if you had the same intelligence as they did. It didn’t matter if you grew up talking and walking the same as they did. You were an animal in their eyes, so you’d be treated as such.

“... Very well. I suppose this will have to do, then. Your payment will be sent in the morning.” The two men scampered off like a pair of dogs with their tails tucked between their legs, and Catra felt a surge of smugness. She wanted to stick her tongue out and shout after them, but the most she did was sneak a glance their way. However, that smugness was short lived, for a hand curled between the space of the collar and her neck, jerking her inside. She stumbled along after, biting back a whine of surprise.

“You are to abide by the rules of this house, lest your insolence be rewarded with punishment. You will not scratch anything. Not the walls, not the furniture, not the people. You will not make a mess anywhere. You are not allowed outside without supervision. You will not speak unless spoken to. There are rooms you will not be allowed into. Adora will tell you which.” As she spoke, Miss Weaver practically dragged Catra down a dark hallway, the windows flashing by in a blur. “Make no mistake. I don’t want you here any more than you probably wish to be here, but Adora spotted you on the streets and had to have you. I will not hide my displeasure for your presence, so expect no soft words or gentle pats from me. And, should you do anything to endanger Adora or her future,”

They jerked to a stop in front of a door, and Miss Weaver forced Catra’s eyes up to her own. “You will suffer consequences worse than death. There is a reason Adora is not allowed in certain parts of the mansion. Hurt her, and you shall find out first hand why. Are we at an understanding?”

Catra jerked her chin from Miss Weaver’s hand, the nails uncomfortable against the sensitive skin of her face. She looked away, eyes already beginning to burn with unshed tears. She blinked them back, claws pricking the insides of her palms. “... Yes.”

“Yes, _what_?” Her voice was venomous, like Catra had gravely insulted her with that simple word. Confusion pricked at Catra’s brow, and her eyes flickered back up to Miss Weaver’s. It quickly fell back to the floor, the bare intensity of her gaze enough to burn wood.

“... Yes?” She tried her answer again, voice smaller. Quieter. There was silence… Until Miss Weaver sighed in response, a hand raising to pinch at the bridge of her nose.

“... We will work on your etiquette later. It is late, and I do not wish to go over every detail of your place here.” Miss Weaver raised a hand and rapped twice against the door. There was a moment of silence, and then a light flickered on in the room. The door opened slowly, and a disheveled version of the girl from two days ago popped into view. This must be Adora. Blonde hair poked out in every which angle from sleep, and blue eyes were hazy and half-closed from just waking up. Rubbing at her face with a small hand, she regarded both Catra and Miss Weaver sleepily… Before all tiredness seemed to drain from her in a rush, and she straightened. Staring right at Catra with a mixture of delight and curiosity. Those wide eyes, filled with wonder. That big smile, one tooth short. The way excitement seem to instantly seed itself on her expression.

Catra hated her.

She hated her stupid, matching eyes. She hated her stupid, toothy grin. She hated the way she regarded her, like a present to be unwrapped in the middle of the night. She was going to claw that stupid look right off this brat’s face the moment she got away.

“ _Adora_ …” The name was dripping with affection as it fell from Miss Weaver’s mouth, and the woman’s hand reach out to softly pet the top of Adora’s head. She responded with a wider smile, back straightening as she looked up towards the woman.

“Yes, Miss Weaver?” Her eyes were so full of hope and ambition, ready to prove all she was worth. So eager to contribute what she could to this woman’s life. It sickened Catra.

“Last time I brought you into the city, you mentioned you’d spotted this creature in the alley. I had a few associates wash it up and bring it here for you. You expressed your want for a pet when you saw it, did you not?” Miss Weaver moved her hands to Catra’s back, pushing her into the room. “I expect you to take good care of her. Keep her out of trouble, Adora.”

Once again, Miss Weaver’s mouth formed around this brat’s name with the utmost infatuation, almost as if the name itself was a treat to say. A treat to be savored and had. It was disgusting.

“Yes Ma’am, I will.” Adora’s eyes moved back to Catra as the door was gently shut, just… staring. So, Catra stared back, ear flicking and tail thrashing as she listened to Miss Weaver’s footsteps recede down the hall. She turned her head, straining to pick out any details whatsoever of the woman’s location. When she could find none, her insides seemed to unwind and relax with relief all on their own. She gave the smallest of sighs.

“... Can I feel your hair?”

The question caught her off guard, and Catra blinked, watching as Adora slowly reached a hand out towards her. Cautious.

Catra immediately swatted the hand away, a growl rising in her throat. She was on even grounding here with this child… if not at a slight advantage. “ _No_. I’m _not_ your pet. I don’t care what that lady says. You don’t own me, so don’t treat me like you do.”

Adora yelped and checked her hand over carefully. She hadn’t been hit, but Catra supposed she’d given her a good scare. But… then Adora looked up at her again, understanding in those big, blue eyes. “... Okay.”

… Okay? The answer disarmed Catra quite a bit, head tilting and tail sweeping along the floor. She hadn’t been expecting this brat to agree so easily… Or maybe she was just saying what Catra wanted to hear. Maybe she was pretending to understand what she meant to get Catra to calm down.

She narrowed her eyes at Adora… before shoving her over and stalking towards the window. Of course, Adora yelped and tumbled onto her butt with a whine, but… she sat and watched as Catra pushed up at the glass pane with all her might. She didn’t stop her.

… It didn’t budge. “..... It won’t open. The staff locks all the windows when they’re closed.”

Catra’s tail lashed back and forth, mismatched eyes turning towards Adora as she got back up. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to signify that answer with a proper response.

“...”

“...”

“... Uhm, this is my bed.” Adora made the first attempt at conversation, moving over to the only bed in the room and patting the top of the mattress with a hand. Catra stalked closer at that, inspecting the blue and gray sheets with a critical eye. It looked soft and inviting. Much better compared to anywhere she’s ever slept. Adora took Catra’s advance as an invitation to continue, brightening a little. “We can share since there’s a lot of space, and - ”

She didn’t wait for Adora to finish. Catra pushed her over again, leaping atop the bed and sitting right in the middle of it. Staring down at her defeated enemy with a sense of pride and victory. Her tail thrashed for only a moment before curling contently around her feet. She’d been right; this bed really was softer than anything she’d previously used. So, she wasn’t going to give it up. Any attempt Adora made to climb up with her ended with another push and a growl. This bed was hers now, and she wasn’t sharing.

...

Despite her intentions, she woke the next morning with that golden-haired child curled up next to her.

So, she pushed her out of bed. 


End file.
